


Careful, Sherlock!

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, Fights, M/M, Mild Language, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: After a nearly disastrous case, Sherlock and John share a tense taxi ride back to Baker Street. With emotions running high, they finally arrive back at 221B, and then…<br/>-Tension runs high at 221B, Post-Richenbach</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careful, Sherlock!

“I’m not saying what you did was wrong, I’m saying it was dangerous!” John stomped into the flat, waving his arms in exasperation.

“Are you saying I should have let the man kill her?” Sherlock strolled in after him. They had been arguing the whole way back from the crime scene. “That’s not your usual moral standing, soldier.”

Sherlock plopped himself down in his usual spat and picked up his violin. He didn’t see anything wrong with the way he acted, he had done his job. The attacker was going to shoot the young woman, Debbie Miller; he’d simply stepped in front of her.

“Don’t call me soldier,” John ran his hand through his hair, “and I’m just saying there were better ways to handle that than to jump in front of a loaded gun.”

“It was the only way to ensure she wouldn’t get hurt!” He started playing the same tune he uses to get Mycroft out of the apartment, signaling the end of the conversation.

John went into the kitchen, leaving Sherlock to his own devices. The kitchen was a disaster as always with the genius’ various experiments. He slouched down into one of the dining table chairs and put his head in his hands. He knew the only reason Sherlock wasn’t in the hospital or dead was that the gunman was so shocked by Sherlock that he hesitated long enough for John to get the gun. He stood up, shaking slightly, and went to make tea.

Sherlock stopped playing when he heard John get up. He felt bad for snapping at the only person who would put up with him, but he was being unnecessarily overprotective. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he had put himself in danger for the sake of the job. Lestrade obviously didn’t mind what means he used to solve the case as long as it got solved with minimal casualties.

Sherlock picked the violin back up, hoping to get the fight out of his mind when John walked back in. His hair was sticking up where he’d been running is fingers through it, a nervous habit that Sherlock made note of when John had moved in. He looked tired and was shaking considerably, the tea in his hand threatening to spill on Mrs. Hudson’s rug.

“Have you come to lecture me about my dangerous actions some more?” Sherlock sneered, trying to hide his concern.

John pursed his lips together in what Sherlock recognized as his ‘I’m so done with your shit’ face. “No.” John sighed and turned toward the stairs that led to his room. He turned back when he reached the foot of the stairs. “Just remember that you’re not invincible, Sherlock, and someday you’re going to pull a stunt like that and they won’t hesitate. I realize that you have a superiority complex, but you are just as human as I am and you can die. Then I’ll be alone with your violin and that bloody skull you won’t get rid of. If I want to talk to you I’ll have to walk out to the _cemetery_ and talk to your headstone AGAIN!” John stopped for a second to calm himself, “I don’t think I could handle that again, so just do me a favor and not get yourself killed.” He turned and went up to bed.

Sherlock sighed, finally realizing the reason for John’s extreme behavior. It was so obvious; he should have paid more attention. He sighed and got up to look for his nicotine patches.

* * *

 

John woke up to the sound of pans falling downstairs. He looked over at the clock: **5:47**. _What the fuck is Sherlock doing at this hour?_ He slipped out of bed and headed down, hoping the genius hadn’t woken up Mrs. Hudson too.

When he walked into the kitchen he was shocked. All of the experiments that had littered the kitchen had been moved somewhere and food had taken its place. It looked like someone had tried to make a cake, judging by the flour sprinkled everywhere and the charcoal looking thing in a cake pan. Eggs shells were scattered about and the bread that John just bought was gone.

“Good morning, John,” Sherlock came up behind him, “I’m making you breakfast.”

John’s mouth dropped open, “What?”

“I am making you breakfast.”

“You don’t cook, Sherlock.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “ Clearly.”

John laughed and leaned against the counter, “Ok, what’s this about?”

“An apology.” Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh God,” John looked around carefully, “what did you break?”

“I didn’t break anything.” Annoyance was creeping into his voice, “I’m apologizing for yesterday.”

“No you’re not,” he shook his head, “you know what you did was necessary, you know I overreacted.”

The other man nodded, “Fine, I’m apologizing for jumping off of St Bart’s.”

John held up his hand, “Stop. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but stop.” He stood up straight and tried to leave, but Sherlock blocked the door.

“I’m trying to apologize for leaving you.”

“You didn’t apologize when you came back, why now?”

“It just occurred to me that you were affected.”

“Just occurred to you?” John said incredulously, “You were gone for three years. You were DEAD!”

“I know, John, I-“

“When you came back I was starting to accept it. I had a nice job, a nice girl, I was going to get married for Pete’s sake!”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Because I love you, Sherlock!” John’s eyes widened when he realized what he said, “I… I mean… Um…”

Sherlock closed the space between them in a single stride. He grabbed john by his jumper and kissed him. John leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck. After what seemed like an eternity, Sherlock pulled away.

“So, you accept my apology, or-“

John interrupted with another kiss, “Shut up.”

Sherlock hugged John and smiled, knowing that everything was going to be alright.


End file.
